All I need
by Chapin CSI
Summary: GSR. Spoiler: Leapin' Lizards and other episodes from season 7. Sara read Grissom's letter... This is what happened next.
1. Chapter 1

ALL I NEED

Spoiler: Leaping Lizards

I know WP's dog's name is Bruno but I call him Derby here. Why Derby? Well, the name just popped into my head.

The story starts right after Sara reads the letter. So, did Grissom left the letter there on purpose? Was Sara happy to read it or was she disappointed? On CSI, some questions are never answered. But here's my own take on what happened afterwards.

It's just a little romantic story. I was kind of depressed after (foolishly) reading spoilers, and decided to lift my spirits with this.

* * *

Sara stood by the door of Grissom's office, silently looking as he worked on a miniature set of his office. He had insisted on trying his hand at it, hoping to learn about the miniature killer's behavior by imitating his actions. 

It was a dangerous game and Sara didn't quite like it, but she knew better than to try do dissuade him.

She took a step inside the office. Gil didn't notice but his dog, Derby, did. He wagged his tail at the mere sight of her.

Sara took another step.

"Hey," she said.

"Mmmh?" Gil acknowledged her without looking up. His gaze remained on the pieces of cardboard on the desk.

"Gotta go," she said.

This time he looked up.

"They paged you?"

"Catherine," she said. "A double homicide in Weston."

He smiled ruefully. They were both on call, but he was hoping they'd get to spend the night together. Not such luck.

He rose.

"I'll walk you out," he said, tucking a hand into her arm.

Derby followed closely. He had developed a liking for Sara, and she showered him with affection in turn. She liked dogs and all sort of animals but her place was too small and she couldn't keep pets.

Sara distractedly caressed Derby's neck but her gaze was on Gil.

"Try to get some sleep," she said as she opened the door. "You have to be in court tomorrow."

"I'm on call," he said.

"So? You can still take a nap," she said reasonably. "Please," she added, using her most persuasive tone.

He smiled.

"All right," he said. He leant forward for a kiss, and was surprised when Sara didn't respond with a hurried peck but with a more elaborate kiss. She gently cradled his face between her hands as their kiss lingered.

"Mmmh." He hummed appreciatively.

"Mmmh." She hummed back, somewhat amused at his reaction. She started pulling back but he kept his arms around her.

She smiled.

"Got to go," she said.

"Not yet," he muttered and leant for another kiss.

Playfully, she started to pry his arms away but instead she held on to them, savoring the feel of his skin and his muscles under her fingers.

Finally, she broke the kiss. She pressed her cheek against his.

"See you tomorrow," she whispered.

He didn't want to but finally let her go. He watched as she got in the car and drove away.

When he closed the door he noticed Derby's forlorn gaze.

"I know," Grissom said, patting his head. "I'm gonna miss her too."

-----

Grissom worked in his miniature set for a while, but her words remained with him. 'Get some sleep' she had said, and suddenly, he felt he ought to follow her instructions.

He crawled into bed and purposefully chose to lie down on her side of the bed. Her pillow still held her scent.

He casually glanced at the clock on the bedside table, but something else caught his attention. A white envelope, propped against his tome of Shakespeare's complete works. Sara's name was written on it, and part of an address too.

Gil froze. It was the letter he'd written to Sara but never dared to send. He'd been using it as a bookmark ever since his return to Las Vegas. By now he was so used to seeing the envelope that he forgot what was inside.

Grissom closed his eyes.

He didn't mean for her to find out like this.

He didn't move for a while. When he finally did, he reached for the envelope and took a look inside. The letter was still there; he took it, half-expecting to find something from her. A note, perhaps. But the letter was intact.

He took a deep breath and then reached for his phone.

* * *

TBC 


	2. Chapter 2

ALL I NEED

Part two

Spoiler: Leapin' Lizards, Leaving Las Vegas, and that episode where Gil writes the letter, (except for the GSR scenes, I didn't much care for the Keppler episodes ).

The song "The Air that I breathe" was written by Albert Hammond and sung by The Hollies.

* * *

Sara answered with a quiet 'hey'. 

Grissom's eyebrow lifted. He usually knew her moods just by the way she said 'hey,' but this time he couldn't really tell.

"Hey," he said. "Are you busy?"

"Not really. The scene hasn't been cleared yet; apparently, there's someone inside the house. It's starting to look like the cops are going to barge in."

"Where are you now?"

"In the car."

"Stay there," He said, and winced at how stern he sounded.

Fortunately, Sara didn't resent the warning.

"Don't worry," she said, chuckling softly, "I'm leaving the heroics to Brass." Her tone softened. "You ok?"

"Yes. I'm -" he hesitated. "I was trying to get some sleep and -"

He didn't finish but he didn't have to. She obviously knew why he was calling.

"I didn't mean to pry," she said softly. "I just saw my name on the envelope, and -"

"I know, Sara." he said. "It's not like I hid it."

"I thought maybe you'd left it there on purpose -"

"No," he said honestly. "I didn't."

"You didn't want me to read it, then."

He didn't immediately reply.

"I did," he said at last. "Back when I wrote it, I mean. I almost mailed it to you, but then I started thinking -"

"Mmmmh. You do that sometimes," she teased.

Grissom smiled at this. Then his smile faded.

"I missed you," he said. "I wanted you to know, but... it suddenly occurred to me that it was silly, sending you a message written in someone else's words."

"Oh."

"And using a poem seemed -" he hesitated while he looked for the right word, "Old-fashioned."

"I liked it," she replied.

"You did?"

"Yes. It's a beautiful sonnet."

He smiled.

"Yes, it is."

"And it fit, somehow," she added, "While I was reading it, I almost felt like you were reading it to me."

Grissom leant back on the pillow. Her words put his mind at ease.

"I wish I'd sent it to you back when I wrote it," he said. "I just thought I should be using my own words, instead of someone else's. This way it would mean more to you."

He paused. "I almost did." he said, "Use my own words, I mean. I picked up the phone a couple of times but -"

He didn't finish.

"I would have loved hearing from you," she said.

He sighed.

"I'm sorry I didn't call, Sara. I don't know why this is so difficult -"

"Well -" she started, only to stop.

"Yes?"

"It's just…" she hesitated, "You're not the only one who has a problem with words," she said, "I've never said anything, either. It's funny because after all these years, I should be able to tell you -" she paused. "But something holds me back. Maybe I'm afraid -"

"Afraid?"

"Yes. I feel like I'm going to jinx our relationship if I say anything," she said, "That by trying to explain my feelings for you, I'll be diminishing them somehow."

Gil was stunned.

She'd described exactly how he felt.

He took a deep breath.

"You don't have to explain your feelings, Sara."

"I don't?"

"No." he said softly. "You've always been able to _show_ me. From the start." He paused, "I _know_." He said simply.

She gulped audibly.

"You do?" she asked.

"Yes."

She didn't say anything for a while. Grissom wished he was in the car with her, to gauge the effect of his words on her.

"I'm glad," she said at last.

They were silent for a moment.

"Still." She said suddenly. "I'd like to say it. Some day."

Grissom stared ahead. He realized he wanted to say it, too. Right now.

He gripped the phone tightly.

This was his chance…

But he couldn't do it.

"So," he said instead, "You didn't think using a sonnet to express my feelings was old-fashioned?"

She chuckled softly.

"No," she said. "I mean, it _is_ old-fashioned -but sweet." She paused, "To tell you the truth, I've been having some own old-fashioned ideas of my own."

"Really?"

"Yeah," she said, "Like for instance, sometimes when I'm with you, I have this -I don't know how to call it- this _urge_ to burst into song or something."

Grissom's eyebrows shot up.

"_Burst into song_?"

"Forget I said that," she said quickly.

But of course, Grissom couldn't just forget it.

"You mean, like in a serenata?" he asked.

"A what?"

"A serenata." Gil replied matter-of-factly. "In Spain, a lover would come to a loved-one's home at dawn, stand under her balcony and sing a song to wake her up."

"Oh."

"Is that what you meant by bursting into song?"

"I… Well…" she hesitated. "Yeah. I guess -"

"I'd love to hear you sing," he said quietly.

"Well, it's not gonna happen." She muttered.

"Why not?" he asked.

He was smiling. He knew she had a good singing voice but for some reason she didn't feel comfortable singing out loud. Her best performances were done in the shower.

"No one's ever sung to me," Grissom said then.

"No one?"

"No one. Ever."

"Oh."

"You know what?" he said suddenly, "I'll read you a sonnet in exchange for a song," He actually sat up and reached for the book.

"Griss -"

"I'll read the entire book for one song, Sara."

"Ha! You can't do that," she retorted, "It would take you years -"

"That's ok," he said, his voice straining from the effort of picking the huge tome, "We have all the time in the world."

And suddenly, he realized what he'd just said. He wanted this to last forever. He'd just put into words something he never thought he would be able to.

He gulped.

"Sara?"

"Yes?"

He opened his mouth but he didn't say it right away.

And then -

"I love you."

A sharp intake of breath was all the response he got.

Silence.

"You'd say anything to hear me sing," she said in a shaky voice.

"Yes," he said cheekily, "But I would never lie to you," he lowered his voice, "I love you."

There was a long pause.

"There is a -" she started. "There's a song I found while I was researching Izzy Delancey -"

"Which one?" he asked.

And to his surprise, she simply started to sing.

If I could make a wish,  
I think I'd pass.  
Can't think of anything I need -  
No cigarettes, no sleep, no light, no sound,  
Nothing to eat, no books to read.

Grissom pressed the phone against his ear. His heart was beating fast.

Making love with you  
Has left me peaceful, warm, and tired.  
What more could I ask?  
There's nothing left to be desired.

Peace came upon me and it leaves me weak.  
So sleep, silent angel, go to sleep.

Sometimes, all I need is the air that I breathe  
And to love you.

"Now," she said, "Lie down and close your eyes."

Grissom felt compelled to obey.

Peace came upon me and it leaves me weak.  
So sleep, silent angel, go to sleep.

Sometimes, all I need is the air that I breathe  
And to love you.

All I need is the air that I breathe,  
Yes, to love you.  
All I need is the air that I breathe.

Making love with you  
Has left me peaceful, warm, and tired.  
What more could I ask?

* * *

THE END

Oh, I know. Trite. But when I was planning this story and wondering where to find a suitable poem, this song came on the radio. And I started thinking. Mmmmh, what about a song instead of a poem?

There's a version by KD Lang, but I prefer the original, sung by the Hollies.

Thank you for reviewing!


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